Page 76 of Challenged By You
“Just what I said. Now, if that’s all for now, I have a kitchen to manage here.” There’s a distinct click.
As I’m trying to process this new information, Sterling lets out a whistle. “Okay, everyone. I know this is big news. Two things before you all go back to your stations. The first is, this information is to remain in this room. No talking about this with your colleagues or whomever you tell your recipes to.”
“Hey, didn’t Elle declare Trina talks in her sleep,” Andre jokes. “Do we need to buy a muzzle for the next week?”
“I think she can be excused for reciting it to her children. Barring that, no one outside this room,” Sterling reinforces sternly.
The room begins buzzing with excitement, recipes being bandied about. As for me, the only thing running through mind is whether or not serving Jonas Rice a dessert made with apples is going to ruin not only the meal but what’s forming between us.
Unable to stand anymore, I leave the glass office and head back to my station to get my mind back on something—anything—but apples.
It doesn’t take long for something to happen to knock some sense into me.
* * *
“No hospital,”I moan, even as I grip the ice pack under my chin for dear life. “Where’s my bag?” is what I try to ask, but it comes out all warbled due to the swelling under my chin.
“Shut up, Trina,” Elle says bluntly. I’m squashed between her and Sterling on my way to the ER located at St. Luke’s-Roosevelt Hospital. “Just hold the ice pack under your chin and keep quiet.”
I moan as our cab driver hits a particularly nasty pothole. “Annie, Chris,” I manage to get out.
“Shh,” she soothes me as I squeeze her hand. In the recesses of my mind, I recognize I have to let it go since if I break it, there may not be anyone who can bake. Just as I’m about to slip mine from hers, she screams, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you daft bat?”
I writhe in agony. It’s Sterling who takes over when she says, “I think if you calm the yelling down to mere barking instead of screeching, Bruder?”
I want to nod, speak, but the more we drive, the more agonizing the pain is. Instead, I just hold the ice pack under my chin and let the tears I’ve been holding back all day fall.
“I swear, you work in a blasted kitchen. How the hell do you not ensure the tabletop KitchenAid is off before you plug it in, I’ll never know,” Elle berates me.
“Distracted. Apples.” It’s no less than the truth.
“Apples aren’t on the damn menu!” Elle’s voice is hitting that pitch that causes me to shudder.
Sterling interrupts. Thank God. “Maybe she was thinking of her children. Either way, just let her hold the ice in place until we…ah. Finally.” The cab pulls up to the ER entrance. Elle leaps out one side while Sterling aids me by grabbing me gently under the elbows. Slowly, she eases me out carefully until we’re all facing the ER doors.
I don’t want to think about how woozy I feel, yet I know it’s almost better than what I was thinking about before I plugged in the mixer.
* * *
Three hours later,I’m pronounced with a mild concussion and orders to stay at home for a week. “But what about the restaurant,” I mumble around an ice pack tied around my head.
“We’ll manage to survive without you,” Sterling says as we all squash into the back of the cab on the way back to Seduction.
“Christ, T, don’t you ever scare me like that again,” Elle begins. “I’m not ready to become a mother. I mean, I’m their godmother, and I love your kids, but I’m not ready to become a mommy. I’m in awe of you every single day you manage to be you and do this and…”
I do the only thing I can to silence her for the sake of my throbbing head. I smush three fingers on her lips and say, “Shhh. Need to think.”
It’s a silent in the cab as it can be in New York City. “Cancel sitter,” I declare.
Sterling asks, “Do you think that’s wise?” just as Elle volunteers, “I can do that,” and reaches for my phone.
“Stop!” I yell as loud as one can when they look like they’ve taken a sledgehammer from a cartoon character.
Unfortunately, it’s the one person in the car I don’t want to pay attention who does. The cabbie slams on his brakes. My stomach lurches when he does. “Not you.”
The car behind us blares its horn, and between the cursing from the driver, the arguing of Sterling and Elle over me, and the knowledge I’m going to lose Jonas when I just really found him, I just want to cry.
So, when I see Jonas lingering at the back door frantically texting when we pull up at the back of Seduction, I don’t care about pain. I don’t care about perception. All I think about is getting to him as fast as I can. Which, when you consider I have gauze wrapped around my head to hold an ice pack in place, isn’t all that fast. But it doesn’t matter. Soon, I’m able to rest my head against his chest and hear the perfect cadence of his heartbeat.
